Ella, born with blonde in her hair and a strong jaw, takes
the bus to school.
She walks to the bus stop using her swollen feet, and makes
her usual comments about the weather to the benches. They are typically good listeners, or at
least they are polite enough to pretend.
Either way, the sky is purple and she misses her mother because of it.
The bus driver is early, so he takes a few moments to make a
phone call. He's probably calling his
girlfriend because he is listening to You Make My Dreams by Hall and Oats on
the radio and lets the passengers put their feet on the seats.
A few people get on at the stop next to Walmart. One woman doesn’t have enough change to ride,
and a man with cigar lips behind her lends her a handful of change. She was short a dime because she decided to
buy a snickers bar last minute.
Ella, afraid of everything and wary of small talk, tenses up
when he sits next to her.
A couple gets on at the third stop and their legs twist
together like licorice. Ella, who has
never held someone’s hand, looks away uneasily.
The man, calling himself Mr. Brown, tells Ella of a secret,
“Once it’s on, you won’t want to turn it off.”
No one gets off the bus at the fifth stop.
Ella, raised by strict parents with good standards, eats an
apple.
She runs through her list of chores for the day. Buy milk, take the Christmas decorations
down, read the seventh chapter from the Humanities textbook, clean out the
fridge, take a nap. She thinks about
calling her mom. She decides she’ll do
it later in the week.
Mr. Brown gives his seat to a pregnant woman who gets on at
the next stop.
Ella, who saves $30 from each of her paychecks but he
doesn't know what for, coughs.
A family gets on the bus at the stop by the University, and
Ella gets off.
And Mr. Brown waves goodbye, and
Ella thinks of her term paper, and the pregnant woman puts her purse on the
floor and sighs, and the couple with licorice legs have licorice arms too, and
Mr. Brown watches and wishes his wife would talk to him more.
And Ella, born with a weak back
and blonde in her hair, goes to school.
Seriously you make my life worthwhile.
ReplyDeleteYou should seriously write a novel. I love all the adjectives you use. Licorice arms and legs. The sky is purple and she misses her mother because of it.
ReplyDeleteawesome.
ReplyDeleteplease write on here again. it's beautiful.
ReplyDelete